A Frozen Kiss of Time
by Ixion of Moonlight
Summary: Their lives were not their own, they breathed only for the other. Only to ensure that each kiss was frozen in eternity, only to be a part of their souls that were forever bound. AragornxArwen


**Disclaimer: **I have no reason to lie and say I own something that I obviously don't. So there.

**Rating: **M for a reason, descriptive sex scene

**Summary: **Their lives were not their own, they breathed only for the other. Only to ensure that each kiss was frozen in eternity, only to be a part of their souls that were forever bound.

**A/N: **I dedicate this to Aragorn and Arwen and the beautiful love they share. It's so soulfully sweet that every touch, every kiss is a reflection of who they are as people, as lovers. I only ask that you, the reader, treasure every word, slowly and with as much care as I did in putting their love together in a realistic, believable style. Please enjoy and review.

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A Frozen Kiss of Time

By: Ixion of Moonlight

She was fading. He could see it as she gazed upon a world that she could not touch. The sun's rays were alight within her hair and fair upon her elven skin but she did not rejoice. Her heart did not hold her joys as dear as in the past. She suffered his grief and the burden pained him.

His love was causing Arwen to worry. His duties as King at times overtook his dedication to his wife. She was not jealous of his obligation. She was his Queen, his everything. But he was becoming withdrawn, further wrapped in healing a world so torn apart. As they were tearing apart. So many nights passed without his touch she could hardly remember the trace of his lilting fingertips.

For a moment, he simply breathed. Like every other man in Middle Earth. He cast aside his worries to just exist. He forgot that the lives of the race of Men rested in his palms. His callused, tired-looking palms. His thoughts became intangible, floating and twisting in complexity. His wife flashed in his mind's eye and his heart wept for her. It was a crushing feeling, knowing he had led to her demise, her suffering for the end of her time. Time that was poison to inhale, time that she _should _have wanted. She sacrificed her immortality to be with him and he was wasting her fragile lifeline.

Darkness broke the ripples of his vision. Cool, soft fingers rested upon his eyelids, reminding him of the delicate frigidness of a pale spring flower, still wet from morning's dew. Arwen's scent drifted about his awareness, lilting and pressing at his skin.

"Why so weary my love?," she whispered sweet syllables across his skin. Her breath kissed the soft flesh of his ear, the gentleness with which she did so struck his heart. A deep, aching wound had been torn in his soul. A wound that plagued him over Arwen's dwindling happiness. Looking into the forever blue of her eyes the sun did not touch them as it once did. Her eyes were shadowed by the pain of her eyelashes, the window to her soul did not part for him to reveal her most intimate secrets. She was truly hidden from him, mind, body and soul.

She was his wife. She had _nothing _to hide from his comforting embrace and loving words. He imprinted the grace of her figure forever into his mind, the way she gazed at him with her hair a dark curtain to block his troubles, his worries. Aragorn brushed his fingers gently through the strands, the pads of his fingers caressing the warmth of her skin. She trembled like a weakened leaf ready to fall under the care of his touch, so long had it been since he had last done so.

"Aragorn…," his name sighed so beautifully past the fullness of her lips. Never before had he loved the sound of his name more than when she said it. But to him it was far more than saying it, she almost seemed to kiss each syllable with her beauty, her lips etched her love into each letter, every sound. He stared up at her with desperation, his neck curved against the resistance of his chair. Her eyes darkened in concern as she leaned farther above him, lingering touches along his beard as if to press him for the answer to his troubles. He grasped her hand, squeezing her delicate fingers as if to give her comfort. His hand easily covered her own and warmed the deathly cold that seemed to steal into her skin. His love had failed to warm her, so lost did she feel. Aragorn's dark, brunet locks shielded his eyes, her loss pained him so much that tears nearly sprung to his vision, unbidden. His breath had caught in his throat as agony strangled his mind. How could this be? How could she still feel for someone as heartless as he was becoming?

"Come with me," his voice, rich as silk, was as much a command as it was a plea. Arwen did not hesitate in showing her trust of him as she followed his tug at her fingertips. He led her carefully but swiftly, mindful of her feminine attire that partially constricted her movements. He hoisted her onto his horse and settled behind her. The dark stallion snorted in his impatience but Aragorn was thoughtful to check that he had moved the folds of her dress from anything that could catch and tear it. He clutched the reins comfortably in a firm grip, already feeling the ease of the Ranger masking the weary King within him. For a night he would merely be the lover of Arwen. She was his soul, she had shaped him into a man worthy of her hand in marriage. She was the night that caressed his form as he slept, the air that he breathed, she was forever, she was everything to him. She was his heart as mortal as it was, he was a reflection of the love she blessed him with. Eternally by her side, she had given him her soul and he was born into the grace of her eyes. Born into the love of her heart.

Darkness overlapped them, concealed them from prying eyes. The veil of night had covered the world but the stars winked down at them, soothing in their approval. Arwen smiled as his arms tightened around her sides as if to protect her from the twilight closing in. She had nothing to fear for her knight in shining armor had enclosed her soul, saving her from the depths of loneliness. His muscles were taut and comforting around her as they absorbed the shock of the muscles rising and falling beneath them. Releasing and coiling into unforgiving steel, their horse galloped swiftly to a hidden place close to the city walls of Minas Tirith.

* * *

A hidden forest seemed to bloom right before Arwen's astonished eyes as they drew closer. The trees were tall as aged as they were and seemed to hold a mystical element. Vegetation was vast but did not overtake the scenery. The tinkling, crystal sounds of a waterfall were not far off. It was a safe haven for the two lovers that Aragorn himself, had found. In their times of need or despair they could flee to the caress of its cool climate and the brush of its many delicate plants. It was his gift to her and he could see the bubbling appreciation in her quivering lips and sweetened gaze.

He patted the sweaty flesh of the horse's neck as thanks for the swift and relatively smooth travel. Leaving the horse to its grazing of plant delicacies, he led Arwen to a large clearing that was brushed by the moon's flowing fingertips, an enchanting touch to its already breath-taking beauty. They almost feared to touch any of what Nature had provided for them to enjoy, so perfect as it was.

Aragorn broke the waking dream of its elegant leaves as he grazed their tips with the roughness of his fingers. Arwen danced before him, embraced by the moon's glowing light. On tip-toe she twirled, fingers outstretched, reaching. Her body was flowing and alive with elven grace and the night reveled in her happiness. He felt his heart lift with the gravity of her smile. She had graced him with the knowledge of her sweet laughter as it passed through his eardrums. He wished to capture the sound but it was too fleeting in its exquisiteness to ever hope to last beyond the next second.

Love for him shimmered in the deep pools of her eyes as the moon kissed the loveliness of her countenance. He stood and watched her, watching him. He could not bear to break the alluring image she painted among the stars. His feet were frozen with the weight of knowing how he troubled her. Those soft glances were not hard to catch, he did not want to ruin her lasting happiness with his voice. His love would be within his eyes to preserve this escaping moment. The mortal ripples of the timbre of his voice would shatter the grace of the Heaven she had found. He couldn't bear to tear away the magic of her light breathing, the halo of moonlight settling in her hair, the stars reflected in her midnight blue eyes. He could do nothing but watch her from afar.

She beckoned him with an outstretched palm, elven fingers yearning for the warmth of his lean, male fingertips. He was drawn to her side, moving without hesitation. Arwen caressed the Evenstar that hung around his neck and felt touched that he was connected to it so strongly. He refused to take off the symbol of her devotion, so willingly given. She lingered on it's brilliance for a moment and was then met with the steely blue of Aragorn's eyes. She stared deep into his soul and almost felt like mourning at what was hidden within him. He was a torn man, weary to near death but she saved him with herself. She healed him with nurturing, loving hands, supported his confidence by banishing his doubt with words saccharine with tenderness. She was his eternal savior, his angel beyond the edge of time. He felt almost helpless at how to show her his gratitude but the sparkle in her eyes every time she gazed upon him told him that she knew. With every uneven breath at her quiet touch she was unhesitating in the knowledge of his love. His every heartbeat spoke to her of his sweet feeling. She had known of his affection from the time they first met. His eyes spoke more than lips could tell in a lifetime. And so he was silent. Arwen didn't mind for his silence was as loving as his words.

She traced the sweetness of his lips, full and needing the touch of her own. Her fingers left slow trickles of warmth seeping into his skin. She pressed her lips to his in that moment, passion boiling over the surface. He pressed her closer, aching for the familiarity of her nearness. Their tongues met and lingered, relishing in the heat of the other. Aragorn traced the edges of her teeth, lovingly. He had missed the taste of her, sweet and almost a delicate kind of feeling. She came to rest upon the comfort of the grass beneath their feet and simply looked at him. His heart constricted at the sight of her, her lips were lightly bruised, her breath was uneven at the beauty of this moment. She was more than he ever felt he deserved.

"Estel, I am yours." Arwen whispered of forever, she was eternally bound to him. As he was to her. He pressed the warmth of his body over hers, careful to keep most of his weight balanced within the taut muscles of his arms. She sighed beneath him, the heat he radiated seeped into her skin warming her of the night's slight chill. His burning lips were restless to claim every inch of her skin. He planted soft kisses at the nape of her neck, licked the delicate skin of her ear. She was gasping of desire as he cupped the soft flesh of her breasts through the cloth of her dress. Her clothing as well as his already seemed a thick barrier between what they needed. His hands moved swiftly to remove her garments as she followed suit.

The night air cooled the growing heat of their bodies. It went unnoticed as wrapped up in each other as they were. They gasped at the sensation of skin upon skin, every inch of their flesh was bound intimately. Arwen grasped the strands of his hair, overcome by pleasure as he caressed the skin of her thighs. He kissed her in the most sensual way, sampling the succulent taste of her blooming arousal. Aragorn licked his lips, deciding he rather liked her taste, exotic as it was but a simple aftertaste that reminded him of…home, his paradise.

She was aching, she trembled under his fleeting touch. Her body pulsated with the need to have him inside of her, to become one. She caressed the heated skin of his chest, his muscles flexing in response to her touch as a quiet moan came from his throat. As she traced the sensitive flesh of his hips he knew he couldn't prolong what they needed. He pressed into her palms, unafraid of asking for more. He asked of her,

"Will you let me love you?" She touched the Evenstar, dangling around his neck lingering on its beauty for a moment. Her eyes glowed with elven light as she whispered,

"Make love to me Aragorn." A sweet smile kissed her lips as he trembled slightly at the honesty of her voice. He would never do anything to hurt her and she knew that. But every time they made love he would still be overwhelmed by the strength of her devotion. He knew the answer that would pass her lips were he to ask but he loved hearing her say that she wanted him, that she needed him as much as he needed her.

She encased him in warmth with a sigh letting him know how she had missed the feeling of him. He had missed her fragile gasps that lingered in the night air, the way she ran her fingers through his strands of hair, scratching tenderly at his scalp. Passion heated their bodies, fueling the desire linking their flesh. His body moved lithely, encompassing hers. She melded to the hard contours of his body, smoothing the rough edges of his form. Sensations bubbled within them, growing with each cry of pleasure until the edge of bliss was within their reaching bodies. He kissed her fiercely, passion boiling in his blood. His beard was rough on her skin but she didn't mind its prickly, defining touch that was the gravity of their love.

Arwen let the pads of her fingers caress his face, admiring the strong edge of his jaw, the softness of his lips. She arched her back, rising to meet him as the pleasure grew, moaning her willingness into the night. She touched the muscles of his back, relishing every silent ripple beneath his skin. Aragorn nipped and caressed her lips, stealing small samples of her breath. He moved faster, seeing the edge of Heaven in her eyes and desperately needing to feel it. She was close, so achingly close. He could sense it in the way she clung to him, trembling as if he was her life line.

He whispered sweet words to her, loving syllables that caused tears to form in her eyes. He kissed them away with a smile that invaded her emotions, bringing completion. Pleasure exploded in her nerves, her back arched, perfectly molding their bodies as his name came from her lips. His breath hitched in his throat as the sensations reached their height, moaning her name into the skin of her neck.

His arms trembled, weakened from the passion still coursing through his veins. Their breathing was heavy, intermixing within parted lips. Sweat covered them both, dripping from one to the other, slithering over rippling muscles to the soft curves of Arwen's skin. But they paid no mind to it as the night air was swiftly cooling them.

* * *

They were silent, no words could express the sheer beauty of their union. Instead, they opted to simply bask in the glowing feeling encasing their bodies. Arwen rested her head on his abdomen, tickling the sensitive skin with the strands of her hair. She exhaled, softly missing the feeling of him, the only time that she felt that she truly meant something to someone. He was forever her silent assurance, as solid and real as the world could get. She rested her light fingers on the edges of his skin, her gentle confession of their love. He absentmindedly caressed her hair, marveling at the texture of each strand, randomly grown from one point or another but still seeming to have a purpose. A reason why it was where it was, just as he had the same need to belong. To feel as if he was alive for something that couldn't be described. He knew now that it was her, his fate was intertwined with hers and he accepted it with open arms and a free heart. He pulled her closer, fearing that at any moment she would slip from his loving hold and he would find that everything was simply an illusion. A dream of the forever that he wanted as her lover. Her eternal lover until the ends of their time. He traced the skin of her cheek, brushing the edges of the red of her lips. She pressed a lingering kiss on the pad of one fingertip, licking the shape of the other, carelessly teasing. He did not see it as a call for action because it wasn't, she was just touching him for the simple feeling. She did not demand anything from him, he was free to do as he wished. He admired her all the more for her trust in him even though they knew that they were both faithful to the other. Their relationship was built on strong foundations of trust that had not crumbled with the test of time's hardships. Aragorn broke the silence,

"How does a man such as I have the right to be with the most beautiful of all the Elves?" His voice was soft as if he did not worry about her answer but to be truthful, he did worry what she would say. He wondered what beautiful velvet words would flow from the Heaven of her lips, if any at all. She was in thought, her mind carefully considering the approach with which she would speak to him.

"My Estel," she curled further into his body, gazing into the steel blue of his eyes. She gently touched the side of his face, her palm cupping the roughness of his beard, accentuating the sweetness of her words.

"You were made for me as I was for you. We are bound by matrimony as well as love. Nothing could bear to take you from my side. You are the light in my eyes, the breath in my breast. You are my everything and without you I would feel as if I were nothing. I would cease to be without you. You will always be mine, my love. Always." Aragorn softly traced the delicate skin of her eyelids, admiring the beauty of her eyes as his way of giving thanks. She smiled at him sweetly, her face slightly flushed. It was because of what she was about to ask.

"What is your fantasy, what you wish for?," she did not realize she was holding her breath in anticipation of his reply until she exhaled as his lips began to move.

"My fantasy is to be with you, forever. That I have," he pondered his next words as Arwen's eyes reflected the love within his voice.

"I wish for a child." He caressed the softness of the skin of her belly, praying for her to be with child. She warmed under his soft touch, sighing at how his fingers lingered at the curve of her belly button.

"I have dreamed of being the mother of your children but it is not time, not yet." As the sun filtered through Middle Earth, they stayed in a frozen, solitary moment where the past was all that they concealed in their cupped hands and they left their future to hide the sign of new life growing within her. Their child would be born of their love as they were also born for that single purpose: to love and to be loved.


End file.
